Wedding Night
by Midnight Memories
Summary: Like their relationship, they couldn't quite get their wedding night right. But they settled for less, like they always did, and fell in love even harder than if they'd gotten it perfectly. Tonks/Remus oneshot. No citrus. CONTAINS SPOILERS.


**Wedding Night**

Fury and anger. Inhuman trashing, vicious howls, pointed teeth tearing into cold flesh and warm blood.

Blood.

It seeped everywhere, covered everything, sending the beast into a deep, dark lust for more. It didn't matter if the blood was his own; he bit down on himself, screeching against his restraints, his wild, golden eyes staring repulsively at the rusty iron bars in front of him. Then, pain unlike anything took control of the wild animal, and his body began to convulse. His skin seemed implode as fur evaporated, nails grew shorter, and bones cracked and moved to form a different skeleton.

The sun rose in the horizon, casting the dark, dangerous forest into a peaceful orange glow. Hell and heaven at the very same time.

Remus John Lupin opened his eyes and drew his first shuddering breath, his eyes instantly filling with tears. He wasn't sure if they were from the searing pain that traveled all the way through his body, or from the relief that the thick chains were still wrapped firmly around his bleeding wrists. He waited another few minutes, simply breathing, living, surviving, until the binding charm finally broke and the locks opened.

He didn't step out of the cage like the dignified ex-professor he was; instead, he sunk down almost face-first, and crawled helplessly across the dirty floor of his basement. He, after all, only went down there for one night a month, and refused to visit the place at any other time. Dust and dirt, along with dried splashes of blood, all clung to his bare skin and fresh wounds, digging in, paining him further. His breaths came in short, uneven gasps, almost in rhythm with his scrambling heart.

One by one, he climbed the steps that brought him to the first level of his small house. It was more like a sophisticated cabin, really; there was a small bathroom, a kitchen, and what could be distinguished as a living room/entry hall/dining room/everything-else type of area. A simple wooden ladder brought to the meagre attic, the second story, with an old bed as the lone occupant.

As soon as he pushed open the basement door, he cringed. Instead of the broken-down plywood that usually met his gaze, he found himself staring at a pair of feet, stuffed in heavy black boots, and two legs covered in frayed jeans.

Furiously, he pushed himself up to stare at her. Her impassive face turned into an expression of concern as she handed him a blanket to wrap around himself.

Remus reached up, grasping it from her hands, and struggled to a seating position, all while covering himself with the cloth. Still glowering, he raised his bloodshot eyes to meet hers, and hissed menacingly, "I told you not to come here, Nymphadora."

A small grin now lit up her face as she replied, her sweet voice acting unfortunately like a soothing balm in his aching mind, "And you expected me to listen?"

"Get out." It wasn't a request; it was an order. His eyes drooped with fatigue, his mind was a whir, and his entire soul felt like it was being ripped out. A new, fresh wave of pain crashed upon him, and he growled like the monster he considered himself to be. He then doubled over, breathing hard, and pressed his forehead against the floor.

He felt her kneel beside him, pressing a cold hand against the back of his burning neck. Her voice was frightened, suddenly. "Remus?"

He chose to deny her an answer for a few seconds. Then, "Get out."

The older man knew that he had hurt her. She drew in a shaky breath before defiantly spitting out, "I'll get out once you've gotten into bed."

Bed...

The thought seemed so far away. Climbing the thin wooden ladder, especially in his condition, was a task that he had never managed to achieve when in his post-transformation stage. Usually, he would make his way to the disgusting, weak sofa in the living room and would nap there until he'd gather enough strength enough to eat, shower, and climb up to his room. However, the young Auror's eyes were planted directly on him, willing him to try it, daring him to fail.

Nymphadora Tonks saw his pain as he raised his head and glared, broken, at the ladder. Gently, she reached down and touched his cheek, smiling hesitantly. "I brought it downstairs for you."

Weakly, Remus turned around, and his eyes widened lightly at what he saw. Sure enough, she had dragged his thin mattress from the attic and had placed it in the dead middle of his packed living room. She had also bought him brand-new linens in pastel blue, and a new range of comfortable pillows, which were all stacked on his makeshift bed. On top were some of his old, and most familiar, clothes.

His throat tightened painfully. She was too good for him; how could he deserve such a woman?

"Come," she murmured.

Slowly, he made it to his feet, thankfully with her there to support his trembling frame. He stumbled to the mattress and then stopped hesitantly. Some wounds were quite fresh and still poured blood down his skin, and he would be damned to sully her new gifts.

Once again, she came to his rescue. Her wand began to trace his wounds, closing them efficiently. She tried to throw in a joke, mentioning how the wound-mending spell was useful, recounting the many times she fell down a flight of stairs and had to use it on herself. He, however, barely reacted, focusing on keeping his mind sane as her feathered touch ran over his heated skin.

Soon, she had completed her task and his scarred body was as clean as it could get despite the circumstances. Gently, she pushed him forward until he had crumbled on top of the sheets. With a trembling hand, he reached for his clothes, proceeding to dress himself as she bit her lower lip and turned away from him. He didn't tell her when he was done; instead, he tugged the sheets over his body, his mind now swimming in and out of consciousness. In a last, gruelling voice, he hissed, "I'm in bed, now."

She replied through the same hurt tone she had earlier. "Then I'll let you sleep."

His mind suddenly snapped. No. That wasn't what he meant. It wasn't him that had been speaking; it had been the creature, the monster, the demon. Panicking, he sat up, his blurred mind complaining, making him nauseous. Swallowing the bile that threatened to climb, he whimpered as loud as he could, "Don't..." His word was lost, as he could barely speak through the wild fear that was paralyzing his body. She couldn't leave him...

After a second, she was back at his side. He felt her shuffling the blankets around, and then slipping underneath, crawling close to him. He reached over and clutched her against his chest, trembling, as she whispered soothing words in his ear.

"Dora..." he managed to whisper. "How long have you been here?"

"Since you locked yourself in." Tonks shrugged as she felt his body stiffening with disapproval. "You wouldn't expect me to spend my wedding night alone, would you, Remus?"

Guilt overtook him as he intertwined their fingers, feeling her cheap wedding band pushing against his skin. "I'm terribly sorry, Dora... I should have checked the calendar more carefully... Bloody hell, had Mad-Eye not reminded me yesterday at supper..." He forced his eyes open and stared at her beautiful face. "I would have probably killed you."

"Shut it, Remus." Her voice was firm, yet held the very note of happiness that he loved. "I thought we were past all that. You are not a killer, Remus, and never will be. I'm the one who should have looked at a calendar when I picked the date." Her face broke into the widest smile she could manage. "But then again, grabbing you one morning and saying that we were getting married that afternoon might have made your lycanthropy fly from your mind. So it's as much my fault as it is yours."

He scoffed, looking up anxiously. "I'm pathetic. Your first night as my wife shouldn't have been spent sitting in a wooden chair and listening to me howl and hurt myself and struggle against my restraints. You deserve so much more than that."

"My vows were 'for better and for worse', remember? How could I abandon you?" she said, reaching up to push back his hair.

Remus sighed. This was a fight that he definitely would not win. He glanced around the room and noticed that she had cooked pasta and had set a plate aside, ready to be heated up whenever he'd be ready to eat.

Who else would have done that for him? Clothed him, fed him, mended him, and kept him company through the night despite his savage nature.

"I love you," he breathed, pulling her closer in his arms.

She chuckled lightly, reaching over to brush a kiss on his lips. "So do I. Let's have a nap, shall we?"

The word had barely been said that he was already fallen victim to a blissful sleep, clutching his new bride in his arms.


End file.
